


Knockout

by itslikegodspilledaperson



Series: Random Fics/ Alternate Universe [1]
Category: Community (TV)
Genre: F/M, Jeff and Annie, post s5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-18
Updated: 2015-03-18
Packaged: 2018-03-18 13:03:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3570626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itslikegodspilledaperson/pseuds/itslikegodspilledaperson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU separate from the main Fic i'm writing, "The Winger/Edison Chronicles".  Annie tags along with Jeff to a gym that Jeff has somehow reserved all to themselves.  Jeff goes to run on the gym's track, leaving Annie alone with her thoughts.  Got the idea for this from a dream i had. Takes place a week or so after Season 5.  Annie POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Knockout

“So…tell me again. How did you get a health club all to yourself?”

Jeff looked up. “Huh? Oh, right. The same way I get most stuff…an old client owed me.” 

Annie nodded slowly. Being a defense attorney for powerful people sure had its perks, she thought.

“So…help yourself to whatever you want. Machines, free weights, bikes, ellipticals, hell there’s even a punching bag over there. I’m going to be running on the track in the basement. I’ll be listening to my phone, so call me if you need me.” He put in earbuds and removed his sweats to reveal a black skin tight shirt sans sleeves and a matching pair of black basketball shorts. Workout clothes definitely did flatter him, she thought as she shifted just a bit while discretely eying his abs. Then again most clothes did. Once he had disappeared down the stairwell in the corner of the room, she took off her own hoodie; she was wearing a lime green tank top with black yoga pants. It was a subtle attempt to make Jeff look at her, but he was already gone. 

Annie walked around the room, past every weight machine conceivable to man as she tried to find one that jumped out at her. Ugh, all these machines just seem so….Jeff. They’re overflowing with weights and plates and dumbbells and wow she really needs to brush up on her gym terminology, she thinks to herself. Eventually, Annie makes her way over to the punching bags. In a bin against the wall are MMA and boxing style gloves. Eh, what the hell? She thinks as she puts on the fingerless MMA gloves. She moves over to her inanimate foe, a fat nylon noodle hanging from the ceiling. She swings, halfheartedly at best. To her dismay, she finds out that punching bags are not as easy to move as they are in movies, and are actually quite sturdy. She throws a couple more punches, but all she has to show for it is a searing pain in her knuckles and a perfectly idle punching bag. She’s never been in a fight, so she has literally zero experience in this field. 

Hmmmm…what’s some good tips for…I don’t know, punching things? Following through seems like an obvious one, she thinks to herself. Feet shoulder width apart? That seems relatively fair as well. But it’s not enough. Then it hits her; try imagining someone you hate. Should be easy enough, she figures as she winds up but then pauses. No one is coming to mind. Wow, does she really not hate anyone? Even to Annie, this seems a bit odd. She knows she’s very opinionated…and opinionated people tend to hate things. But…nothing? Not even Annie Kim warrants enough disdain from Annie to make her want to hurt her hand again. Whatever. Just punch the bag one more time, and maybe something will pop up as you swing. She braces herself one last time, clenching her fists and doing her best to scowl, a scowl she knows Jeff would laugh at if he saw… Wait a second. 

Jeff. Almost involuntarily, she swings harder than she’s ever swung before, making solid contact with the side of the bag and moving it more than a few inches. She stares down at her hand, in shock because, A, it does not hurt at all, and B, JEFF? Jeff is the one that gets through to her hatred? She’s surprised, to say the least. But then again, is she? Does it really surprise her that she all of a sudden hates Jeff? Yeah, they were hanging out today, but it was the first time they’d talked since Borchert’s lab. And he’d just invited her because they’d had a conversation about how she never had a place to work out a few days before the events in the lab occurred. 

She was so convinced she loved him just a few weeks ago… she even had it written in her diary. But then the insurance appraiser came, and said Greendale was sold to Subway, and then Jeff and Britta were engaged and it was his decision and she had approved but…what, was Jeff stupid or something? No, she knew him too well. He was too smart to be so stupid. There’s absolutely NO way he was oblivious to what had happened between them the past 5 years. Yeah, he played it off early on, but there was no doubt they had gotten even more intertwined since. It was undeniable. Everyone, even the dean (the dean!) saw it. 

And in spite of all of this, Jeff chose Britta, the girl he couldn’t stop bickering with and putting down. The girl who he’d spent all of sophomore year hooking up with. Jeff wasn’t stupid, she thought as she began to pound away at the punching bag. He was self-centered. He was conceited. He didn’t care who he hurt. Her punches began to pick up velocity. It’s funny, she thinks, that love and hate are so very close to each other. It’s almost dangerous, honestly. She’s really working up a sweat now as she wails on the poor bag that has subconsciously taken the form of Jeff’s stupid, ugly, perfect head. Stupid Jeff. How could he lead her on like that? How could he do such a thing to her when it was clearly Britta he loved all along? He never told anyone, but she’s willing to bet money she doesn’t have on the fact that he used his deep love for Britta to open that door in Borchert’s lab. Which meant these past 5 years have been a lie. The one person who she always thought was there for her is, as it turns out, not. She feels alone for the first time since rehab. And she feels enraged. 

“JEFF”

“WINGER”

“YOU”

"STUPID"

“JERK!”

She shouts between punches, throwing an especially hard jab during the word “Jerk!”, and then her hands fall to her knees. She’s sucking wind, chest heaving as she attempts to catch her breath. But her breath is long gone by now. And in between one of her ill-fated gasps for air, she hears a sob. She’s in such a blur that she doesn’t even realize her eyes have watered. 

She especially doesn’t notice Jeff, mouth agape, standing across the room. Not until he speaks up, at least. 

“Anything you wanna tell me?” 

She looks up, shocked, to see Jeff Winger leaning against a Stairmaster. Startled doesn’t even begin to describe what she’s feeling. Neither does speechless. Although speechlessness seems to have become a symptom of whatever she IS feeling.

“No…Yes..I….it…Uh” she stammers. Come on, Edison. Really??

He lifts himself off the Stairmaster and walks towards her slowly. 

“It’s just…been a long week”, she hears herself mutter. What?? It’s Monday, Edison. 

“Well...I’m still processing what I just saw. But, I think I’ve seen enough to know I owe you an apology”, he starts. 

“I’m a jerk. I look out for myself, and I don’t care who I hurt in the process. You of all people should know that.”

She nods, holding back tears and biting her lip. 

“The funny thing is, I’ve never cared about my actions hurting other people until I met you. And ironically, that lead to you being the most hurt. I think. I’m still kinda playing catch up, but I think I got it. I care for you, Annie. And sometimes I’m surprised by just how much I care for you. So I do what anyone does when they’re surprised and overwhelmed. I retreat. I get so afraid that saying anything of substance to you might hurt you that I say nothing at all, and I guess silence hurts more than words ever can sometimes.”

Her eyes are tearing up once again. 

“You and your stupid good speeches”, she mutters as her eyes interlock with his. 

Jeff stifles a smile, and looks past her to the punching bag with some amusement. “You’ve got the right idea, imagining the face of person you hate on the bag. Works wonders. I personally picture Alan, but it’s not fair to the bag, he didn’t do anything wrong to you.”

Okay now he’s lost her. “Jeff, what exactly are you trying to get at?” She asks slowly. 

He stands in front of her. “I hurt you. Now it’s your turn to hurt me.”

“WHAT?” She recoils. 

“Come on, punch me. I can take it.”

“Jeff, you’re crazy! I’m not going to punch you!”

He looks at the beanbag again.

“Well, you already have. And from what I saw, you weren’t exactly finished. Were you?”

She reluctantly shakes her head no. 

“Then come on, Edison. Step to the plate.”

She finally agrees, very cautiously. Very VERY cautiously. But not before switching out her MMA gloves for boxing gloves. He insists she doesn’t have to, but the truth is now that the adrenaline has worn off her hands hurt a little. When she gets back at him, he submits one rule: no below the belt, no face shots, Okay so that's two rules. Either way, he gives her the green light. She starts swinging away, slowly at first but once again she starts to pick up speed. He’s right. It kinda DOES feel good. And she can feel the hits landing, but his stupid abs seems to absorb all the impact every time. It feels good, but there’s something missing.  
Apparently he senses it too, because he says “Now, tell my why you’re punching me.”

She keeps swinging, harder and harder. 

“You told me that kiss meant nothing!”

Punch.

“You said all our moments and stolen glances were just in my head! “

Punch.

"Then you made it sound like all I had to do was be patient...."

Punch.

"That one day, we'd both be in the right place for each other..."

Punch.

“You basically played feelings tag with me for 5 years!”

Two punches. 

“And in the end, what, you’re off to marry Britta, who it turns out you loved the entire time?”

She swings, but a hand catches her glove before she makes contact. She stares at the giant hand that is palming her glove like it was a grapefruit: She can feel his hand squeezing the padding, and slowly looks up to see him staring at her with perhaps the most shocked expression that she’s ever seen on his face.

“Annie, I don’t love Britta. Not like that, anyways.”

“What?? Then why are you-“

“We called off the engagement.”

She loses a breath as her heart decides now is a good time to skip a beat or two.

“When?”

“After the lab.”

After the lab? Wait, that means...

“Wait…if you don’t love Britta, then how did you open the door in the lab??”

His other hand reaches down and picks up her other glove-laden hand. The corners of his mouth turn up ever so slightly, and his eyes raise as he takes a step towards her. He’s looming over her now.

“Guess.” 

Her jaw drops, and the only word she can muster up and out of her mouth is a silent, barely audible “me...?” The room seems to spin around her, as all of a sudden the entire dynamic of this conversation is flipped on its head. Jeff's grin widens just a bit more. "Brilliant, Holmes."

“Jeff, I’m… so sorry, I-I had no idea…”

He pulls her gloves off, and pulls her in, grasping her hands against his chest. They get lost in each other’s eyes. He begins to move in for a kiss, and she feels herself getting lost in him until she realizes where they are, how she’s dressed, hell, how she SMELLS….

“Jeff…” she stops him as his head jerks slightly and his eyes open.

“Sorry, I thought I was getting a vibe…”

She giggles, and her cheeks turn a bright pink. “No…I mean, yeah… you were. It’s just… look at me, I’m a mess…”

He doesn’t break eye contact. He doesn’t even blink or flinch or anything.

“I am…and I don’t care. Annie, I love you.”

She can feel the bright pink turning red… Yet she doesn't even have to think twice before a response slips through her mouth. 

“I love you too.” She's surprised by how certain she is. 

The two’s lips meet, and for a second she forgets they’re in a gym, in workout clothes, covered in sweat. They’re in a field, they’re on a rooftop, they’re standing in the rain, they're outside the Tranny Dance, they're onstage at debate. They’re anywhere but here.  
He lets go slowly, and looks her in the eyes once again, making her heart so restless it’d probably be jumping around if not for her ribcage. 

“So…I think we’re done working out for the day, wouldn’t you?” His eyebrow raises in that textbook Jeff Winger fashion. 

“Yeah,” she gushes. “I think we’re done.”

“...are you free later?”

“I’ve got a dinner, actually.”

His face falls, “Oh…”

She winks. “Yeah, my boyfriend is picking me up at six.”

His face has a look of utter confusion draped across it. “Wait...what????”

Gotcha, she thinks to herself. Jeff Winger, you're not the only one who can whip out sarcasm at a moment's notice.

“Yeah, his name’s Jeff. He’s kind of an ass, but you’d like him.”

He laughs, grabs her by the side and pulls her in as they pick up their sweats and walk towards his car. “You’re mean.”

“I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> i had a dream about something similar to this, and i was reminded that a similar punching bag scene takes place in How I Met Your Mother's 9th season. I was surprised on how powerful the scene was, especially since it was birthed via 10 minute power nap so i changed a few things and retro fitted it for Annie and her Jeff frustrations.


End file.
